


Quiet Whispers

by astrariumcatcher



Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 2 (Video Game), Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Family, Fantasy, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Flash Fiction, Friendship, Gen, Good and Evil, Grief, Hope, Humor, Inktober, Loneliness, Longing, Love, Magic, Short Stories, Travel, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25542061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrariumcatcher/pseuds/astrariumcatcher
Summary: A collection of thirty-one short stories set in the land of Albion, each one glimpsing into the lives of its citizens.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 12





	1. Crime

**Author's Note:**

> These are really short stories that were done for inktober way back in 2017 for the [FableFreaks group](https://www.deviantart.com/fablefreaks). I never got around to finishing them back then, but I liked what I wrote for the most part and will be finishing them up now. 
> 
> There's not much to them (as in terms of a fully fleshed story), instead they're small snapshots of my character's lives, and are hopefully fun and quick reads for everyone! I enjoyed writing these so much!! Hope it's a fun read! Kudos and comment are super appreciated c:

What they were doing was abhorrent, illegal, and… entirely juvenile. This was Bloodstone after all. Whatever the guards hated in Bowerstone, the people seemed to love here. Breaking into a home to retrieve some measly weapons should have been the last thing to spark Ben’s worries. Still, Roy had insisted Ben come along, promising that this action out of all things was commonplace and quite excusable. What else was one to do in Bloodstone?

He wasn’t sure why Roy was the person he was immediately drawn to when moving to Bloodstone. Sure, his time in Gunk had proved rather eventful and he became a changed man - but Bloodstone was different. There was something raw about the lawless men and women that walked around the port town. Perhaps it was their de facto leader, or the countless other pirates that grazed the stormy waters. It should have been hard to find someone loyal to work alongside with, but fate had it’s way and sent Roy sprawling in Ben’s direction. The two met after a particularly bad bar fight, coming in as rivals and ending up as friends.

Roy knew everything about everyone in Bloodstone, he was one of their boys after all. Ben was just the smalltown guy willing to risk his life in the name of adventure… And to be honest, he was thrilled. This must have always been the path he was meant to walk down.


	2. Gift

And she looked at her youngest with an immeasurable pain in her eyes as a small gift was placed into the palm of her hand. She accepted it with a smile, gleeful enough for the young boy to be convinced that everything would be alright. 

Her fingers work at the bow, struggling to pull the loose fabric apart. He watches, eyes glued to the ribbon, and opted to bury the truth deep within his being. The truth that she wasn’t alright, that it wasn’t going to be okay, and that this moment would be one of their last.


	3. Firearm

Carefully she adjusts the butt of the rifle on her shoulder. Incorrect once again. His hands work around her body, adjusting the weapon an inch lower. She can feel her breath hitch in response to his touch, and Aria can hardly contain her beating heart. Her eyes glance sideways, hoping that he would look back. But he doesn’t return her gaze. He doesn’t know, and he refuses to know her desires… It would be best for both of them, that was decided a long time ago.


	4. Bandit

It was his eyes that startled her. So similar to her own, there was no way that was possible. No one else in Oakvale had eyes like hers: Too grey, too hollow, too… Unnatural. Her mother always promised Sybil that her father was handsome, he just wasn’t an Oakvale boy.

She cursed herself for believing in the hag’s tales. Sybil loved her mother, but there were times the woman was insufferable with her hidden knowledge, lies and secrets. To keep something like this hidden from her? Inexcusable! Her father was not someone from a different country. No, he wasn’t even from a different city. He was an Oakvale boy through and through. Except this Oakvale boy wasn’t some farmer or fisherman. No...

He was a bandit. 

And he too was startled at the person in front of him.


	5. West

Over the desert sands and towards the sea, that’s where they would go.

How strange, that in just one day, everything had gone from bad to worse. They wouldn’t be children playing in the snow, hoping that the army wouldn’t reach the village to conscript. They wouldn’t be the adults searching old ruins and playing games hoping to reclaim a youth that had long been snuffed out. 

They were no longer safe in the place they once called home. It was time to move on, even if it meant the most difficult days of their lives would soon follow.


	6. Beetle

It was strange, did all hero stories begin with smacking around a few beetles? At least it wasn’t giant rats, now that would be something straight out of the stories his sister used to tell him.

Ademar pauses once the thought hits his head, letting it seep in those precious memories. Never again would he sit around the fire with Theresa.. With his father… His mother. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago were his last moments of childhood.. Perhaps he should wipe away the tears before returning.

Just a few more moments... 

Maybe a little more than a few...


	7. Cap

“For the future Hero.” 

A cap was nestled onto the young boy’s head. It was much too large, but in time he would grow into it. Whether or not Tanner actually kept the cap in good shape in the years to come was another thing entirely.

Though, while no one in their wildest imaginations would think of it, that cap would become a sign of a deviant deed. A grim disaster that none would see coming. One that the last Archon of Albion would hold proudly at his side.


	8. Tattoo

His skin was covered in numerous markings, each intricate detail sketched beautifully on his damaged body. Emily found herself tracing each line with her finger, pausing to observe her husband’s sleeping face. At times he stirred, shifting to the side when she had gone on too long. But she hardly had to wait. He dozed off quickly, and she began again.

Emily couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before. That the pretty face of her husband was holding the soul of a tired man. A man who wanted nothing but peace, and fought so desperately to obtain it. His tattoos were faded, worn, constantly drawn over to give them a fresh appearance. In a way, they reflected who he was inside. 

Her lips curve up into a small smirk as he turns over to look at her. His own gentle smile causes her to pull away quietly, feigning innocence as his brows furrow in question.

“You are far from beautiful,” she says softly. “But you are mine, and I am yours. And that is beautiful in and of itself.”


	9. Chicken

“Don’t,” came gently from behind her. While the word itself was stern, and all too serious, Sparrow could not find herself to listen. Again, the voice rang out, providing more instructions the less time she spent looking behind.

Eventually, she huffed out in response. The turn of her head was rewarded with a dissatisfied shake of his head. “What’s gotten into you?”

She didn’t respond at first, and instead opted to blow a piece of stray hair from her eyes. Blonde now, it was a decision she had made once she found out that her hair no longer grew brown and instead was grey. More silence, and finally she stood tall, hands at her hips. “Curiosity!”

“You’re telling me the desire to kick a chicken was from curiosity?”

“Sounds about right,” she smiled, leaning forward towards the man. An expectant expression on her features. “It seems like something my ancestors would do.”

“I have concern for your ancestors then,” he responds with a quick peck. 

There was a smile on her face when their lips met. A feeling returned deep in the pit of her stomach. A bubbly array of happy feelings, mixed with youthful anxiousness. It felt like forever since she last felt these feelings. Ten years too long.


	10. Camp

To pass through Darkwood was enough for most people to start shaking. To even consider resting in the grim environment was out of the question. No one in their right mind spent the night in Darkwood. Only the wicked or crazed even dared… And Heroes it seemed like.

Aneva was such a Hero. Her dark hair placed into an unkempt knot at the top of her head. Stray strands framed her features as she listened to the eerie noises from around them. She would have been fine by her lonesome, but Dragun had insisted on joining.

The young man sat across from her, absently watching the flames dance about. Warm colors contrasting with the dark, it was like finding light in the most unexpected places. It was beauty in a desolate land. He found himself looking out past those warm colors, to Aneva and her contemplative features. The girl with the cold expression he always fell in love with. 

The corners of his lips flick up, and as if on cue they both stand upright. “Let’s pack up.”


	11. Hobnobbing

“Now who in the world allowed this sort of tomfoolery?” 

It happened to be the passing comment of one random noblewoman that caught Aria's attention. And against her better judgement, she took a look around, just to take a peek at whatever this supposed tomfoolery was. 

Her jaw nearly unhinged and fell to the floor, and frantically she began swinging her hands telling the man from the other end of the room to immediately stop. These motions caused her compatriots to look over in confusion, and within seconds, their own faces contoured into ones of shock.

“What… is he doing?” Erik whispered underneath his breath, and Elise only answered in a huffed gasp. Neither she nor he could put a finger to the behavior. Though, in all honesty, this might be the best gala event they’ve been to in years.


	12. Search

“Why in the hell are we here?!” 

Gripped in her fingers was a spade. There was nothing magical or special about the tool, except for the fact that Ademar said it was only one that could be used in this situation. Emily scoffed at her husband, demanding a better explanation. His silence said it all: He didn’t know himself.

He also didn’t know why he had taken Emily to tag along on this little adventure, though his smile betrayed his subconscious. She deserved to get a taste of the childish parts of the adventuring life. Where cryptic texts would send one across the continent in search for buried treasure. Emily prayed that it would be all they found.


	13. Harvest

His fingers intertwined with hers as a harsh yank from the crowd sends them both into the circle of people. Laughter ensues as they gather their senses and join in on the dance. Nothing could beat the Harvest Festival that Oakvale put on every year. Its questionable beginnings had been tossed aside for more favorable traditions. 

Tanner would be at the center of it all. And who would deny the spotlight to the son of a famous Hero? He smiles out childishly looking at the girl in his arms.

“You're having an awful lot of fun,” she snickered out. He pulled her closer in response, their noses practically touching. “Maybe too much,” she continued.

His lips graze over her ear. “For the Harvest Festival? No, not enough fun.”


	14. Fish

The smell of crisp air filled his senses. Ademar had acquired the rights to the hut along the edge of Greatwood, after the fisherman’s unfortunate passing. And while it was difficult to see a friend go, he was pleased that the memories would not go to waste.

Fisher’s Creek was now a little home he would take his family to whenever they needed a break. All four of them. The place was refurbished to their liking, while still retaining a bit of the old hermit-esque features the fisherman liked to keep. His trophies were there, hanging on the wall. Aneva and Tanner already fighting about who would catch a fish that size. Neither of them had come close.

They had his brashness when it came to competing. He smiles again, breathing in the air once more. The memories would continue.


	15. Style

Flames dancing in the fireplace lit up the room, allowing enough light for her to inspect her attire. Uncomfortable, and definitely not something she was used to… And yet, wearing it brought her comfort. There’s a soft tap behind her. Gal’s footsteps judging by the weight.

“It doesn’t seem like you’d fit in the Eastern Kingdom,” he comments, approaching Aria slowly. With slight hesitation, his hands rest on top of her shoulders. “Though. Granted. This is a traditional outfit worn by peasants. Like me.” There’s a hint of humor in his voice, and yet he was entirely serious. He hadn’t forgotten the difference in status. 

“Stylish,” she responds with an equal tone. Aria turns to one side, admiring the intricate patterns stitched on the hem. She turned again, the frown on her face was now visible. This whole outfit was in excellent shape, much to her surprise. 

As if he could read her mind, Gal squeezes her shoulders. “My sister wanted to keep a piece of our old lives here. And when I left the mainland, she made sure I brought this along.”

“To never forget who you are?”

“Hardly, it’d be warm enough for the weather here. And, she was tired of holding onto it.” It was a complete lie, but for him, it was something he wanted to tell himself out loud for years. A lie was much better than the truth, especially when his sense of self died out years ago.


	16. Beautification

Clear blue liquid swirled around in a thin vial, she swirled it around some more to allow the color to change to a off-white. Sparrow would have been unaware of what this potion did if not for a single tag glued onto the bottle.

Scar-vanishing potion.

She definitely hated the look of scars. They were cruel reminders of mistakes made during battle, or jumps gone wrong. Or… of a night that plagued her memory. Perhaps this potion will work, take away those lines and bring a clean slate. If only it were that easy.


	17. Cosplay

Feathers poke through a wide-brimmed hat. Whoever made this suit deserved to sit in shame, Erik thought, sitting on a bench by himself. Never ever had he ever worn such a ridiculous getup, not even during masquerade parties. He laughs, when was the last time he went to a party?

Others were supposed to join him to this… Event. Erik wasn’t sure what to call it. The boys he had helped weeks ago by playing Bandits and Balverines… No, it was Hollows and Hobbes. That was what they had told him. 

To think, him, a prince, sitting on a bench, waiting for a bunch of men his age to go play dress up… Well, he’s found himself in weirder situations. Saving Bowerstone could wait a couple hours.


	18. Worship

Every week, Emily made her way to the Temple of Avo. Rarely did she go inside the building, refusing to donate to the greedy disciples that lingered inside. Their quiet whispers, and that echoing voice that spoke would haunt her. Sometimes aggravate.

Where she spent most of her time was the hill that once held a great sword. Her husband had it now, but she didn’t care about that. 

That spot on the hill was quiet, peaceful, and where she would spend her time meditating. It was quieter than the inn. Less chaotic, a total respite for her wandering mind. 

Sometimes, only sometimes, she swore she could feel a presence. Most of the time she passed it off as fatigue and left. Hearing voices, now that was a strange thing she’d rather avoid. No need to believe in ghosts. Or worse, the real deal.


	19. Potion

“Properties of a strength potion.”

The words were written in neat cursive, followed by rhythmic tap on an empty inkwell. Dragun was at the helm, holding the quill and ready to add more words. A group project for a class. 

It was akin to a punishment. Not only was he working with his best friend, but their worst enemy was grouped together with them. Richard. 

“It increases strength experience,” he says, sneering at Aneva when she plants a book down on the table. “Duh. What else needs to be said?”

“How about the different types! The actual _properties_! How to make it!” Aneva snaps back. She flips through the pages, pointing at various creatures, describing the potions that were made after them. Beetles, balverines, trolls. All sorts of monsters inspired it. Only instead of agreement, Richard rolls his eyes, opting to lean back in his chair instead of listen.

Dragun lets out a long sigh. This was going to be a long project.


	20. Coat

Winter was an unforgiving friend, one that would take from you and spare you nothing except a glance. If you were lucky, you could trick this friend by hiding next to a warm fire or going out with armor made entirely of wool. Sparrow was rarely that lucky growing up on the streets of Bowerstone. Winter was more akin to the bullies that kicked stray dogs. If you were worth nothing to it, winter was instead cruel. 

In her hands was a bag of gold, more gold than she had ever seen before. She counts quietly in the back of a store while others around her mulled about.

At first, she’s afraid. Does she have enough for food? Or a place to stay? Will buying this coat put her back to square one? And then she remembers how easy it was to get this money. Hot tears roll down her cheeks at the thought. It was too easy… why wasn’t it easy before?


	21. Jack

Nightfall brought pain.

Creatures of the dark lurked in the deepest woods. Still, they were out of reach from the walls of the town. Pieces of the Old Kingdom crackled in the shadows. Still, they did not sing for those unversed in their melody. Now the Void called louder than all in the night.

At first it was a whisper. 

Those were the nights when she still could rest. Time passed, and she grew older, the magic in her veins awoke. Louder the whispers became. Agony burned in her mind. No longer could she sleep, not when the Void called out in her dreams.


	22. Blind

Only a year had passed since that night in the Guild. How quickly events moved from there, so fast that she had little time to think before she awoke in the cold mountains. And when she was far enough away, Theresa could breathe. The visions lulled to a pause, her dreams were warm, like mother’s hugs before bed. Rare were the nightmares that used to plague her mind, she was reborn.

The warmth she craved now, walking through the thick snow. Grabbing at the furs wrapped around her thin body, she shivers. It was here that she had found him. 

Theresa knew of his desires and powers, but she craved that stability more than the warmth, and had trusted him. In the end, it was his own arrogance that had rendered him defeated. Underestimating her raw power, that was what he had done. Fickle men. Foolish men. Just like the bandits from before.

She would never be the one caught in a trap ever again.


	23. Assassin

“Move!” 

His scream tore past the sound of thunder. Loud and crackling it was, just like the lightning that struck the ground, illuminating the path in front of them. Figures in the trees, dressed in dark hoods, gnarled weapons. They were here to kill him. She knew it.

Emily wasn’t much of a fighter, not the good kind at least. Her words were her weapon, and her crossbow its companion. There was no fair battle here, not for her, but also not for these men. Her husband, straight from a storybook, magic in hand as the lines on his skin glowed blue. Vibrant and threatening. He was power itself.


	24. Goodwill

Two feet trampling through the shallow banks of the lake could be heard behind him. 

The eldest prince turned, watching his younger brother chase after a dragonfly. If Logan had allowed bitterness to set into his soul, Erik would have been cast aside the moment he could walk. 

And yet, he couldn’t do that. 

It wasn’t the young prince’s fault that things turned out the way they did. The ones to blame were still around, and in time, perhaps Logan could forgive them. Until that day came, Logan had Erik, and Erik had Logan. Brothers, no matter what would happen. They were family, and for Logan, family looked out for one another.


	25. Ship

“Are you any good at this?” 

The response to her question was met with such a look of pure shock and insult that she continued prying no further. Instead, her fingers wrap around a piece of rope, following his instructions and tying a knot. Eventually Ben did speak, seemingly after cooling off.

“Obviously,” he says. The wit in his voice remained, and Aria was sure he didn’t hate her. “I’ve been on ships and docks a good portion of my life.”

“Don’t fault me for asking.” Her attention on the knot, fingers nimbly working around the difficult coil. She does look up, catching his smile right before it faltered. “Had to know if you were rusty with the whole sailor thing, that’s all.”


	26. Commandment

“Now, now, what do you have here?” Her father’s voice was airy, just how it normally was when speaking to her. Always a tinge of false-curiosity, letting her fall into the trap of speaking too much. It was a habit he exploited. Until she learned how to control her words and pretty them up, Reaver was going to continue these talks. Aria was going to be a shoddy noblewoman without the help. 

“A history book,” she responded in turn. This was the time to practice, of course mistakes were still dangerous in this situation. Mistakes were always dangerous in the court. “Avo, the benevolent god of light. Wise protector of the people of Albion. You must have an opinion on my reading material?”

“Protector of the people.” Bitter. The words were bitter in the air, and they hung there as Aria watched her father’s face grow dark. “A false god does no such thing, my dear. Darkness masked as light can never be trusted.” 

He left the room. It was a first for her, she had never seen his facade fall quite so quickly, or even at all. This was a different man. This was a man who remembered his name from long ago.


	27. Deep

His anger was soft once upon a time, Sybil had decided that while watching him argue with another. Rage was never a kind emotion, it was ugly, showed the worst sides of a person, but most of all it was dangerous. But his was soft in the way that it could be hidden behind a smile, a hug. It was never out in the open, no one knew of his anger.

But now, the years went on too long, he worked too hard for his goal and his anger was harder. It was ferocious like the wounded beasts of the darkest forests. It was persistent like the gnats that flew around decaying corpses. When he was angry, chaos followed behind.


	28. Scars

Pure agony filled her body, the cut was too deep. The battle over, Sparrow could only drop her weapon, opting to clutch at the wound. Blood drenched her gloves, only a gentle gasp left her mouth. 

It was Walter who ran to her, bandages in hand as he sat her on a nearby rock. She sniffed, gently removing her hand away from the gash. Deep, bloody, and all too painful. Another sniff as she watched him pour something onto her arm. 

“Was that the good rum?” Sparrow hisses out. Her eyes still glued to the blood, and another sniff was her response to the sight.

“Balls… It was.” He turned to look at her, something was wrong. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course it does! But the stupid thing is going to leave a scar,” she sobs out the last sentence. “I hope those potions are still in production.” 

Walter can only smile. A blissful, tiny smile.


	29. Tombstone

Oakvale was beautiful in the morning, its streets peaceful and quiet. How easy it was to forget the blood that ran through here all those decades ago. And here he stood, a Hero of great renown, shaking in the middle of a cemetery. He was still the fearful boy who watched as all he loved burned to the ground. 

The statue of his parents looked rather imposing today. Would they approve of who he had become? Or would they have told him that he had done enough, that it was time to rest? Good always found a way to take advantage of him, perhaps it was time for a break… 

“There you are, little brother.”

Ademar’s body moves on its own, way before his mind registered the sound of his sister’s voice. She was here… It was only right that they were here together. 

A smile on his face was enough to calm his nerves. He wasn’t alone in all of this.


	30. Hammer

Rain pattered against the windows. It was a gentle noise, accompanied by the panging of metal against metal. An irresistible noise to Imedia’s ears. She worked tirelessly day and night, mastering her craft in order to build the perfect weapon.

Her entire family had Hero blood, and she was capable of it all. A direct descendant of the First Archon, Imedia would never let it go to waste. Every discard brought her closer to her goal. And then…

She smiled, holding the product of her tears and blood in her hands. As the Guild’s greatest champion, Imedia knew what to call her legacy. 

“The Champion.”


	31. Wanted

They wanted new. A new king. A new Hero. A new… everything.

It was perfect. To step into the role of royalty so easily, as if the crown was especially made for him and not Logan. They rejoiced, they were pleased. 

Funny, he had grown up around the court, and yet it never stuck to him, just like a jacket too big for his body. Did they not agree back then? When did their opinions change?

They wanted fresh. A fresh perspective. A fresh face. A fresh… everything.

How long until they threw him away? For making the wrong choice, or making the risky call. Everything was scrutinized in this position. The people were sharks, more than they’d like to admit or even realize. Page’s words rang in his mind. What did he want?

Erik smiles.

He wants to feel free. He wants to be naive again. He wants… a love that he can no longer have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, the very end! Thank you for reading and getting this far, I really appreciate it. 
> 
> Let me know which of the stories were your favorite(s), or any thoughts you might have. Interested in any of the characters? Any lines that grabbed your attention? Honestly, I'd love to know - it helps me as a writer knowing what works and doesn't.
> 
> I really liked writing these, and for the most part I'm happy with how they turned out. My favorites would have to be Tattoo, Harvest & Ship. But there's parts in all of them that I really like! 
> 
> As always, kudos are appreciated c: Take care, until the next story


End file.
